Harry Potter and the Muggle of Destiny
by Another Reader
Summary: Growing up, Harry makes friends with a bookworm, and realizes books are a gateway to new worlds, and the library is kryptonite to his cousin. Best friends, they discover Harry is a wizard, and that Duncan seems to be immune to magic. How will the magical world react to the first Muggle graduate of Hogwarts?
1. Chapter 1

"Oy, how'd you end up on the roof anyway?"

Harry looked up. Duncan, a loner, not unlike himself, was looking at Harry with perplexion.

"I, uh…" Harry stammered. The truth was, he wasn't sure how he had gotten on the roof. He had been hiding from his cousin Dudley and a few of his mates during recess yesterday, and suddenly found himself on top of the admin building. It had made quite the fuss, as they had to get a ladder to get him down.

"I'll keep it a secret."

"This will sound weird, but I really don't know."

Duncan blinked, and appeared to chew that over. "So, you don't remember? Or poof, you was just up there suddenly?"

"Poof, I think."

Duncan nodded. "Aliens. Or magic."

Harry shrugged. Duncan was odd. He read. A lot. He always had a second-hand or borrowed library book with him. And not the school library, the local library.

"Or maybe you sleep walked?"

"I don't think I fell asleep," Harry explained.

Duncan hmmed in agreement. It had been the middle of the day. "I think I have one in here with some teleporting aliens." He said, reaching into his bag. He groped around until he pulled out a paperback. "Here, read this and tell me if it brings any memories back, you may have lost time."

"Um, sure, I guess?"

Duncan nodded, and made his way back to his desk.

Harry looked down at the book in his hands. Why not read it, he had nothing better to do at home. It wasn't as if his Aunt or Uncle ever let him have any fun.

••••••••••

**A YEAR LATER**

"Oy, Harry, c'mon!"

"The books aren't going anywhere, Duncan!"

Harry had just come into eyeshot of the local library where they met every weekend. He smiled, in just a year his life had changed seemingly so much. Harry had made friends with not only Duncan, but also several of the library staff. His Aunt and Uncle couldn't bother him here, he could spend as much time as he wanted going through books.

Duncan had been right, books were a ticket to freedom.

Harry wove between several of the pedestrians as he made his way towards the entrance. Duncan smirked as he looked past Harry.

"A bit old for cosplay, aren't they?" he asked, pointing back towards the road.

Harry looked over his shoulder. There were three men and a woman wearing odd clothing. They weren't uniforms, but they all were robes, with different cuts and colors. Harry frowned, something about the way they were moving made him think of Dudley and his 'gang'.

He picked up his pace towards the library entrance. It was only five or six more yards.

"Nice props! Are you all LARPing?" Duncan called out.

"We don't need this one. Make sure the other one survives," one of the robed group ordered.

Two of them produced wooden rods from somewhere and mumbled something. Duncan watched as two colored wads of light appeared and shot forwards, one straight towards him. He flinched automatically as it hit, and his skin tingled slightly, as the other one flew by, towards Harry.

"Rude. We're not LARPing with you guys," Duncan shouted. He looked down at his chest, where the light hit. His shirt seemed fine. "... Wait, that's not even how lasers work?"

Harry's hand went for the door, but a blast of light flew past him and hit it. The door quickly frosted over in ice, blocking his way, and Harry scrambled back, away from it.

"These aren't LARPers, Duncan!" he shouted, looking for some way to flee these weirdos.

More mumbling, from the side this time. A ray of light shot out, hitting the pavement in front of the group of not-LARPers. They turned to meet this new threat, and one gasped, before the ground bulged.

A massive vine pushed through the asphalt, grabbing the man in front, with more vines quickly pushing up to grasp at the others.

Duncan gasped as well. "Oh my god, it's Gandalf!"

Harry blinked. He could see where Duncan was coming from. The new man lacked a staff, sword, or pointed hat, but carried another carved wooden rod like the others. A wand, presumably. He too wore a robe, dark blue, and sported a beard down to his waist. His lips moved, and an opalescent barrier appeared in front of him, just in time for more colored lights to splash into it.

Harry dove behind one of the cheap faux-roman pillars the library had in the front to try giving it gravitas. "Duncan, the spells! They don't curve, they must be line-of-sight projectiles and or rays!"

Duncan blinked. "Ha! Good job!" He rushed off to the side, behind a trash can.

Meanwhile Gandalf and the three combatants not tangled in the vines continued to trade volleys of light, the waving vines between providing both sides partial cover in addition to the shields they all produced.

There seemed to be conversation amongst the attackers.

Two cracks filled the air. A scream pierced Harry's ears as the woman who had been thirty feet away a moment before collapsed on top him, unable to stand. They both collapsed to the ground, and as he scrambled away, he realized she was missing her right arm and leg.

"Of course she bloody splinched."

Harry looked up to see one of the others holding his wand against Duncan's neck!

"Hold it, Dumbledore! I've got a hostage!"

The old man spoke out, "What do you think you can do at this point, Bruno? Give up peacefully."

"Very funny. Now, if you don't want to see this muggle cleaned up with a mop, I suggest you get rid of that plant, for starters."

Dumbledore frowned, and, turning towards the vine plant, began to chant with his wand outstretched.

Duncan stomped on the foot of his captor, reaching for the wand.

"_Reducto!_"

The spell only had a few inches to travel, and slammed into Duncan's cheek.

Duncan responded by pulling the wand out of Bruno's hand and running towards Dumbledore, leaving the would be hostage taker flabbergasted.

The old man blinked, but didn't waste any time. He shot a series of spells at the one man with a shield left, overwhelming it, and apparently knocking him out. Bruno started to run, but a spell landed in his back, and he collapsed to the ground like a stringless puppet.

Duncan switched directions, and ran towards Harry. The woman had stopped screaming, and was now curled up in a ball, groaning. Harry ran up to meet Duncan.

"What did you think you were doing?"

" I figured I could dodge the spell. I also thought that, since the first spell hit me and didn't do anything, I might be resistant. I was half right."

"You oaf, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The two boys hugged briefly before Duncan pocketed the wand and turned to Dumbledore, who seemed to be collecting their assailants together.

"Reckon he's the good guy?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"He backed down when I was a hostage. Earns him a lot of points as far as I'm concerned. We still don't know what his angle is though. Both sides could be targeting you."

"Me!" Harry let out, forgetting to whisper. Dumbledore looked up, but went back to collecting the woman's limbs that apparently had rolled next to a bush.

"They were clearly targeting one of us from what they said at the start. If they were targeting me, they would've known not to use stuff I'm immune to, right?"

"But I'm just a another kid. Wouldn't it make more sense for them to try and get you, if you're really immune?"

"You'd think so, but everyone was surprised when he hit me with that reducty thing. I don't think they knew about it."

Dumbledore was apparently finished collecting the others. They were now all unconscious, and he had taken their wands. He slowly approached the boys, one hand up in a wave.

"I imagine you two must have a few questions."

Duncan moved slightly in front of Harry and nodded. "Why were we attacked?"

Dumbledore's eyebrows went up. "An interesting first question. You aren't going to ask about the lights and plants and so on?"

"Should we really waste ten minutes arguing about whether magic is real or not? It clearly is," Duncan shrugged.

"It would be traditional."

Harry let out a nervous laugh, "I guess we're not big on tradition."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sorry. They were a group of criminals, and knew I was chasing them. They must have thought you looked like easy hostages."

Duncan frowned, mulling it over.

"You're both hurt, would you like me to help?"

"We're fine," Harry disagreed.

Dumbledore pointed to Harry's knee, and Duncan's arm. Both were slowly bleeding.

"When did that happen?"

"In situations like this, you often don't notice things like that," Dumbledore explained. "Let's hope you don't get familiar with finding unexpected wounds. May I?" He lifted his wand.

Harry nodded, but Duncan stepped forward again. "Just don't try anything funny."

The old wizard nodded. "_Episkey_."

The gash on Harry's knee sealed up within seconds, and soon the only evidence left was the blood that had run down his leg.

"Give that a wash before you go home. Now for you."

"Didn't you watch? I'm immune somehow."

"I wonder… permit me to try anyway?"

Duncan shrugged, frowning. Dumbledore repeated the motions of the wand, and Duncan's arm tingled, as he had every time before. However, his arm started to slowly heal.

Half a minute later, all three of them were frowning at Duncan's arm. It had formed a small scab, unlike Harry's wound.

"Why'd that work this time?" Duncan asked.

"I'm not sure. I'd like to think it's because I'm a fairly talented wizard, but I imagine it's more complicated than that," Dumbledore admitted. "Amazing. I'm not sure I've ever heard of magical resistance like this." He smiled, "You learn something new constantly. Even at my age."

The boys heard some strain in the old man's voice. Looking closely, they could see a bit of sweat on his forehead that hadn't been there before, even after the battle.

"I would ask you boys not to speak of this. And I need that wand back, I'm afraid."

Duncan frowned. He had wanted to keep it, but there was probably no way he could could talk Dumbledore into it. He handed it back, reluctantly.

"Thank you."

"So we were just in the wrong place?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and I was too slow. I apologise again."

Duncan shrugged. "It turned out alright… Where is everybody?" He looked around, suddenly realizing there should be others rushing away, or towards, all of this commotion.

"I put a spell around the area. Non-magicals won't want to pay any attention to this area."

"Woah, a Somebody Else's Problem field! Magic really is awesome. Hey, is there any chance we could become mages?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Wait a few years. You'll find out around your eleventh year."

"Wow, does it express itself during puberty, like in X-Men?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to deal with these criminals."

He turned and walked towards the pile of unconscious attackers, and pulled a long rope out of a pocket. He tied it around the group, making sure to get the woman's appendages, before saying, "turkey with all the trimmings." The group disappeared.

The two boys blinked, then turned to each other. "That was…"

"I know, right?"

….

"Well, let's go in."

"Now? How can you think of books now?" Harry asked.

"It used to be fiction. Now it's study material," Duncan explained. "Or do you not want to be a wizard when you grow up?"

Harry's mouth opened, then shut. "Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The timeline of this story has been shifted forward a decade. This is to reduce research required. Although after I did this I realized that it made Harry's first year of Hogwarts in 2001, which may make interesting parallels between Death Eaters and real terrorism. We'll see. Mostly this is just so I don't have to try and remember if pagers were still being used or if Duncan can reference a 90's movie yet. It shouldn't have much impact at all.

Harry sat at the kitchen table of 4, Privet drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, with a book in one hand and a cheese toasty he had made in the other. Life had gotten considerably less unpleasant over the years. Duncan had asked to come over years ago, and Uncle Vernon had turned his customary shade of red and yelled for a while. In short, Harry was told, 'no'.

Then Duncan's foster parents had rung on the phone, and asked if Harry could come over. Things changed rapidly, all for the sake of 'appearances'. Of course, in hindsight, Vernon may have been trying to dodge justice. Apparently most children don't grow up in a cupboard under the stairs, and people as close to the social welfare system as Duncan's foster parents would have noticed these things.

The mail flap clanged shut, and Vernon bellowed from the couch in front of the telly. "Get the mail, boy."

Harry rolled his eyes, and put down his sandwich. "Coming." He walked to the door, still reading his book as he walked, and grabbed the mail off the floor. He finally tore his eyes away from the book when his hand felt the texture of one of the envelopes.

It was addressed to him, in green ink. On the flap, there was a wax seal, just like in the fantasy stories he'd read.

He blinked, and stuffed it into his pocket. "Just bills and junkmail," he said, coming into the living room.

"Never mind then, leave it in the kitchen."

"Right. I'm off to the library."

Vernon grunted. It was a phrase heard almost constantly in the house now. To the point that Harry used it almost anytime he left the house, regardless of his destination.

Harry grabbed the toasty and stuffed the book into his pocket next to the letter. It was time to find Duncan. He would probably be at the library.

Where else?

••••••••••

Harry sat down at the library table. "Let's step outside."

Duncan looked up, skeptically. "And I would do that, why?"

"We're not going to want to be quiet. It came."

"What are you on about, what came?"

Harry held up his letter.

Duncan's eyes grew wide. "Let's step out."

Moments after the door closed, Duncan let a "Whoop!" out, into the open air. "It finally came! Haven't you opened it? What does it say?"

"Of course I didn't open it yet. What if there's magic on it? It could respond to me opening it."

Duncan grinned. "Right, of course. Jeez, it's got you listed as 'smallest room' on the address. Definitely magic involved. Well, open it."

Harry broke the seal and pulled out the letter.

"Hogwarts school, yadda yadda, Dumbledore, yadda yadda, dear mister Potter, pleased to inform, accepted, Hogwarts. List enclosed, necessary items… We await your owl?"

"Where are we going to get an owl?" Duncan asked. "You're raised as a muggle! Don't tell me they sent you some sort of automated letter!"

Harry shrugged. "This does look pretty standardized. Maybe they forgot I'm a 'muggle'?"

"I doubt Dumbledore is the type to forget stuff like that. Although from that list of titles, he must have a lot on his plate. Still…"

"We could try and catch a mail owl?" Even Harry seemed less than impressed with his idea.

"They're not going to let the 'Boy Who Lived' accidently miss school due to a paperwork error," Duncan said firmly.

"Kafka would disagree."

Duncan shrugged. "We've got a while until the deadline. Let's see what happens, eh?"

••••••••••

Early the next morning found the boys outside Harry's house, waiting in the dew for the post.

"This is a stupid idea."

"It had to be delivered somehow. We might catch the owl on it's way here, and give a reply."

"The mail doesn't get delivered until almost noon." The two were sitting in a bush with a net. It was, admittedly, one of their odder ideas, in a long list of them.

"The normal mail."

"Fine."

…

…

"Wake me up if something happens, right?"

"Fine."

••••••••••

"Psst."

Harry shook his head, slightly groggily. They had been taking turns as lookouts.

"Does that look like an owl to you?"

"... Yes. It's looking at us."

"I brought some ham. Should we try that before the net?"

"Please. Let's not get a bird of prey angry at us without reason."

Harry held up a chunk of ham Duncan had brought. "Here buddy. Do you have a letter for me? I have something for you if you do."

The owl's head turned slightly, seeming to eye up the meaty tidbit.

"You've got the first letter ready, right?"

"Right."

"Here buddy. I'd like my letter please. Or you can take this one back if you don't have a new one."

The owl made up its mind, and flew down out of the tree. Harry flinched as it landed on his shoulder, the talons poking into him probably relatively gently, but still surprisingly sharp.

"There's a letter attached," Duncan said, ripping it open. "Yes, it's the same, we can use the old one."

Harry was feeding the owl chunks of ham, and simply nodded. They had written a reply on the last letter in case they were able to send it somehow.

"I think that's got it."

"Um, thanks? We've got a reply, and I'm out of ham now. Would you mind taking that back?"

The owl looked around, possibly for more ham, before spreading its wings.

"Woah there!"

It took off, into the sky, and was soon beyond the trees.

"I guess we wait and see what happens?"

••••••••••

Professor McGonagall was at her desk, wishing she could partake of a finger of scotch. Teaching was rewarding, but the work leading up to the actual start of term never failed to give her a headache. A tap at the window announced an owl, and more correspondence. She sighed, and pushed the window open.

"Ah, you're back. Good, and with a response. I guess I can cross another name off the list."

She took the envelope and opened it up. "Really, they're not supposed to send the letter back, how will they know the supplies to…" She stopped, and read the name again.

"Oh dear." There was only the letters PTO on the front, but the back was completely filled with a letter.

Dear Deputy Headmistress, or to whom this letter arrives,

I happily accept admittance to Hogwarts, however there are several problems. Namely, I don't know where to buy any of these items, I don't know where Hogwarts is, I have no access to Gringotts, or money in general, or transportation. In fact, it will be a matter of luck if I can get this letter to you at all.

I would please like it if someone could come over and explain a few things to me. Thanks so very much.

Yours,

Harry (raised as a muggle) Potter

PS: Let Dumbledore know Duncan is coming as my bodyguard. He is excited to be the first muggle to attend, and hopes to find out about his 'condition'.

Minerva blinked. "What."

••••••••••

Albus looked up at the knock on his door and sighed. He knew that knock. Minerva was an excellent deputy, which meant it would be important if she was bothering him.

"Come in."

Minerva walked through the doorway holding an invitation. "Albus, we made a mistake. A standard letter made it to a muggle student."

Albus sat up straighter. "Oh dear. How did it turn out?"

"I'm not sure. Why don't you take a look?" She handed the letter over.

Albus's eyebrows went up at the name. "How did this arrive?"

"Via the owl it was delivered by. Read it."

Albus frowned. Minerva sounded peeved. She wasn't a fool, and he would likely be on the receiving end of her sharp tongue in a minute.

He finished the letter quickly, and stared at the ceiling, stroking his beard.

"Well?"

"Interesting."

"Really? That's all you have to say?"

"Very interesting?"

"We gave an invitation card to not only a muggle raised student, but Harry Potter! Which, by the way, I'm sure was one of your little games. Not only that, but he's already broken the statute of secrecy!"

"Duncan was there during the attack. If anything, I'm guilty of breaking the statute. Though I'd be interested in seeing the obliviators 'fix' the problem," Dumbledore explained with a weak smile. "And yes, I was going to have Hagrid go and help Harry with his purchases. I had expected his relatives to be a bit of a problem, actually."

He read the letter again, as Minerva glared at him.

"Hagrid! Albus, you know I love Hagrid, but he's not approved to do orientations! Myself or Filius are supposed to go. You might as well have sent Severus!"

Dumbledore snorted, "Oh yes, that would have ended well. However, it seems Hagrid won't be needed. I think I need to handle this myself."

"Not without me. You're not approved to do orientations either. Don't give me that look, you had your chance to renew your certification three years ago."

"Blast and bother, Minerva, I'm the Headmaster."

"Which is how that letter got into the wrong stack in the first place, I'd wager."

"... Fine. It's getting late. Shall we make it lunch tomorrow?"

"I can make it, but hadn't we better ask his relatives?"

"There's no point. They won't be your average 'hard sell', Minerva."

"I still have no idea why you left him with those… people."

Dumbledore nodded somberly and stared into the fireplace.

••••••••••

It was nearing half past eleven, and Harry and Duncan were in the park. Sitting on a bench reading, of course.

"How long do you think it will take?"

Harry sighed. "How am I supposed to know? Where is Hogwarts? And how fast is the airspeed of a laden owl? "

"Scotland, in fact, and faster than you'd think," Dumbledore said, walking up.

"Ah, Gandalf made it!"

"That's professor Dumbledore, young man."

"And that would be professor McGonagall," Dumbledore introduced. "This is Harry Potter, and I'm afraid I don't know your last name, Duncan."

"Bryden. Duncan Bryden," he said, as the boys stood up.

"Well then, we're all introduced. Your letter mentioned you had questions. I admit, I have a few of my own as well."

The boys nodded, and Harry began, "How exactly did you expect me to reply by owl, when I've been raised as a muggle?"

"That was a bit of a mistake. I meant to send someone around to help you with all of this. Much like we're doing now."

Minerva harrumphed quietly to herself, and looked away.

Harry glanced at her, before nodding. "Then I guess I really only have one other question, other than the school details I'm sure you'll be filling me in on later.

"Were we _really_ just accidental victims back then?"

The headmaster stroked his beard, looking at Harry.

Eventually he sighed. "No."

Duncan jumped up and started dancing around Harry. "Chosen one, chosen one, does whatever, a chosen one does; defeats dark lords, survives dark spells, look out, it's the chosen one."

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Duncan, who managed to get his legs under him and stumbled back. "Don't take the piss, mate."

"Which leads me to my question- how have you two learned of all this?"

"Well, after you saved us, we decided to try and figure out how to become wizards," Harry explained.

Duncan shrugged, "Obviously, there's not much in the way of literature about it, unless you go way back to like, Solomon's Keys, or The Golden Bough, unless you count weirdos like Uri Gellar, or books with titles like 'secret tricks of the KGB mentalists to get money and babes'."

"In fact, it took us nearly two years to get anywhere at all," Harry continued, "Then we found the first traces of the wizarding world, and it all started to fall into place. One second."

Harry turned to the backpack sitting on the bench, and pulled out a poster tube. "The key was finding this." He unplugged the tube and slid out a newspaper.

McGonagall inhaled sharply, and Dumbledore's eyebrows rose.

It was the November 1st 1991 copy of the Daily Prophet.

"I remember that…" McGonagall started, before trailing off.

"We all remember where we were when we heard the news. You've both read it all, of course."

It wasn't a question, but the boys nodded anyway.

"The people who attacked Harry and I, they were, what, Death Eaters? Neo-Death Eaters?" Duncan asked.

"Something like that, yes," Dumbledore agreed.

"Which is why I need to go to Hogwarts with him," Duncan declared. "What, that was going to come up pretty soon." That was directed to Harry, who was frowning.

"Harry doesn't need a bodyguard at school," Minerva stated.

"Well, not every day, no," Duncan allowed, "But battling evil wizards isn't going to be easy, he needs a trusty best friend. A gang of five or seven would be traditional, but I'm sure we'll make friends there… Also, groups of seven usually end up dead."

"He won't be battling evil wizards either. It's a school."

"He vanquished a dark lord, but there's no body. People say he survived a deadly spell. All as a baby. I've read this story a dozen times. Vlode… Vord… whasname is coming back, and it'll be up to Harry to stop him. If I'm any judge, there'll be a sword and a prophecy involved. Maybe a special wand or something too."

Dumbledore winced.

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, Duncan thinks that when real life becomes like a story, you should act as if things are running on narrative causality."

"Anyway, we need to find out why I'm immune to magic."

"What?" McGonagall asked.

"Duncan is immune to magic. Well, except for Dumbledore, for some reason," Harry explained. "That's how we managed to get this. I'm immune to anti-muggle Someone Else's Problem spells, obviously, but this was actually in a small museum near the Potter estate. Duncan went in with me, and took this out. I mean, we aren't certain there were any spells on it, but it was in a case."

Minerva glared at them.

"We'll give it back now," Harry tried.

"That's not… Yes, you will, but that's not the problem. No one is immune to magic."

"Duncan is," Dumbledore said flatly, "Do you mind if the professor tries a tickling spell on you?"

Duncan smirked, "Sounds fun."

McGonagall pulled out her wand and let fly. Everyone watched it hit Duncan's chest.

"It tingled, as usual, but I wouldn't call it a tickle."

Minerva was stunned for a few moments before turning to her friend. "Albus?"

He shrugged. "I'm not certain. No, it's closer to say that I haven't found more than a few rare rumors and hints. I've looked into this a fair bit over the last few years, and I have found few leads, and none promising… Duncan. I am not opposed to you coming to Hogwarts, but it will take a great deal of work, many things to line up, and the approval of your parents. If any of these things fall through, it won't happen. Also, you do realize that you're a muggle? You can't practice magic."

"Of course. There are classes I can take though. We weren't able to find a syllabus or anything, but the paper mentioned some OWLs. I could take Herbology, Care for Magical Animals, and so on. And, I'm not sure about this, but couldn't I make potions?"

Minerva started chuckling. "Oh Severus is going to love this." She sobered. "Really, Albus? This is unprecedented. A muggle in Hogwarts? What will he do when he graduates?" She turned to Duncan. "You're going to be caught between worlds. You won't be able to integrate into wizarding society, but you won't have a muggle education either."

"There are ways around that," Duncan explained. "We have tests for 'non-traditional' students and so on. If I can replace wand-based classes with study time, I can prepare for my GCSEs or whatever. It won't be easy, nor will it look particularly good on a resume, but it will be worth it."

"You have been planning ahead," Dumbledore said with a hint of approval.

"We've had years to obsess."

Dumbledore seemed to look at the horizon, though the trees were too thick to see it. "Perhaps it is time for there to be a muggle graduate from Hogwarts."

Harry and Duncan high-fived, and hugged.

"See, Harry. It will all work out," Duncan grinned, "it would be too boring a story otherwise."

Harry nodded. "It's all over but the yelling."

"Yelling?" McGonagall asked.

"You've never met my Uncle, have you?" Harry asked.

Minerva sighed. "Oh. Right, that yelling."

"She _has_ met him," Duncan grinned.

••••••••••

The four walked out of 4 Privet Drive in a less cheerful mood.

"I sometimes wonder how I'm related to them."

"It takes special people to make an orphan glad to be part of the foster system Harry. Don't take that away from them."

Minerva glared at Albus.

"Well. Now that the carrot and stick business is done with, it seems we have a lot of work preparing an extra slot for young Duncan to fill. Professor McGonagall will be back regardless of those efforts, but if everything works out, we'll need to talk to your parents as well."

"That should go smoothly. I already told them I applied to a few 'private' schools with programs for the underprivileged. If Professor McGonagall can pretend to be from a muggle 'Gifted Student Academy' or something, it should all go smoothly."

Minerva groaned. "We normally require _informed_ consent. We can explain things to the parents of first generation wizards and witches." She turned to the headmaster. "We may have to go along with his plan. If we tell his parents, it may be considered a breach of secrecy."

Dumbledore frowned. "We'll see what happens. Duncan, don't assume this endeavor is assured."

"If it was easy, there would be no dramatic tension."

Harry chuckled. "Just smile and nod. It will work out, or it won't." He paused, then staged whispered to the adults, "It's scary how often he's right."


End file.
